The Mist and the Lightning. Part 19

“It’s just that your hair was too tangled, but now everything will be easier.”

But Nik didn’t share his confidence and made such a sour expression on his face that Kors almost gave up and retreated. But, having gathered his courage, he nevertheless decided to insist on his own:

“My little white kitten, well, I beg you, please your daddy-master! I’m asking you!”

Nik capriciously pouted his lips, and, with all his appearance expressing displeasure, and reached for the ashtray, taking out an unsmoked joint from under the mountain of cigarette butts.

He lit it, inhaling deeply.

“Here, take a wait…”

Kors patiently waited for him to smoke, and when Nik had finally smoked enough, he began combing him, trying to do it as gently as possible. Still, from time to time, he accidentally pulled Nik’s hair, so that his head jerked back, and Nik hissed, barely able to contain himself. And Kors said quickly:

“Everything, everything, everything, I won’t do it again!”

He diligently combed each strand to the very tip, gently ran his hands along the entire length of the hair, admiring their color, stroked them and kissed them, buried his face in them, breathing into the back of Nik’s head. Now Nik’s hair smelled of scented soap and perfume water from the Ore Town. Kors ran a comb over them, inhaled the smell and realized that he was getting up. So he threw away the comb, and pressing Nik on the shoulders, laid him face down on the bed, pushing his legs and buttocks apart. Inside, Nik was not tattooed, and Kors was always amused and touched at the same time — this strip of untouched light skin, hidden from everyone and so seductive in its whiteness among the skin clogged with ink. A stripe that only a select few know about.

Kors slightly drooled on the head of his cock and put it to the still squeezed hole … but, before he could enter, he came.

“Ah, motherfucker!” Kors was extremely annoyed.

Nik, realizing that everything had already happened, rolled over on his back:

“You have just got too excited about your Inness’ hair,”he tried to console Kors when he saw his face.

Still somewhat upset and angry either at Nik or at himself, Kors grabbed him by the ring hanging under his nose and pulled him forward and up rather roughly, so that Nik was forced to quickly rise on the bed and sit up.

Kors didn’t let him go, he jerked so that Nik turned his head to the right, and then pulled in the other direction, and Nik turned his head to the left, up, down. And Kors, finally relaxing a little, laughed.

And Nik, realizing that Kors was playing with him, said:

“You are going to tear my nose.”

“No, no…”

“You are dragging me, it hurts me.”

“I just like your helplessness. When I hold you like this, you can’t move anywhere, and it’s funny.”

But Nik didn’t seem to have so much fun:

“Color my eyes,” he asked, clearly trying to distract Kors from his nose, “color them with black, the arrows have completely disappeared.”

“No,” Kors immediately objected, disagreeing, “it suits you, but it’s too vulgar. And you are so beautiful and tender with those fluffy eyelashes of yours, I don’t want to paint you like a whore.”

Saying all this, Kors didn’t even think to let go of his nose. Holding the ring firmly in his fingers, he forced Nik to throw his head back a little. Nik, no longer trying to think of something, froze in his arms.

“But I would like to decorate your face a little differently,” Kors said, “to give you a present.”

“A present?” Nik winced in pain as Kors pulled a little harder. He tried to look at Kors, but he was uncomfortable because he made him tilt his head higher and higher.

Kors finally released him:

“Yes, a gift. Will you accept it?”

Nik rubbed his hand under his nose.

“What the gift?”

“You’ll see now! I have called someone!”

There was a knock on the door, and Kors, smiling slyly, got out of bed and opened it to the guest. Matin was standing outside the door, and he just silently handed Kors a box and left.

Kors returned to Nik:

“Let me decorate your face a little differently!”

“How? What’s in this box?” Curiosity crossed Nik’s face.

Kors opened the box and pulled out a silver chain.

“Let me take out some of your jewelry and hang a chain on you.”

“On my face? Like you did before?” Nik looked somewhat discouraged.

“Yes.”

“Okay… but where did you get it?!”

“I’m learning to do like you, I ordered it mentally. Zaf helped me.”

“Oh!”

“Have I coped with it?” Kors asked again.

“Yeah, okay,” Nik agreed, and Kors smiled happily.